


Field of Flowers

by birdsareblooming



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Choking, Death, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Nightmares, POV First Person, Symbolism, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21678004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsareblooming/pseuds/birdsareblooming
Summary: a short, first person nightmare.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Field of Flowers

You stand in a field. The wind blows the grass in ripples. 

There is no sky. Though the field is lit by a non-existent sun, the sky exists in a state of nothingness. 

There are no trees. Just hills and hills of grass. 

You look down at your feet.

They are not there. 

You look at your hands.

They are not there.

You cannot feel yourself.

You are not there.

You are a specter, just a breath of air in the wind that blows the grass. 

Underneath you, a bud emerges. 

It blooms, it is a golden flower. 

You reach down, and touch the large flower below you, and your body forms. 

You see your legs.

You see your feet.

You are there. 

The bud withers. You reach down, in a feeble attempt to stop the withering, but it dies and shriveled away. 

There is a strange feeling of glee within you. 

The dead flower disperses, sending it’s broken petals across the endless field, planting itself. 

Buds emerged from the grass, all across the field.

They open, revealing millions of buttercups, turning the green field golden.

You giggle.

You laugh.

It’s beautiful. 

You spin and feel the petals on your bare feet. 

You are stopped in your tracks.

You look down, and the flowers are holding on to your feet. 

You struggle.

They hold on.

The flowers grow up your legs, encasing them in vines and flowers.

The smell is deafening. 

You lose your balance, falling over, the flowers grow onto your hands. The vines weave through your fingers.

You cry.

You cry for help.

For anyone to help.

But nobody came.

You did this to yourself.

You bow in acceptance, letting the buttercups crawl into your mouth. 

They choke you.

You wake up.

You smell pie.

She must have left it for you.

**Author's Note:**

> I know i just finished off my other fic but I speedwrote this and was like "fuck it let's post it"


End file.
